Sunday, May 31, 2020

The corona virus saga - chapter 23


Gangs of infected start roaming the streets of red state towns. Huddling close together as they patrol the town. Vomiting on each other in a frenzy of joining.

Ned and Zed were out for a night on the town.

Living a dream from before the troubles all began. A night of fun.  Had begun.


They were walking down the street. Main Street in fact. In our town. The town of REDACTED. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. From Town and Country Magazine. Or the Sunday Bulletin Insert.

Normally a quiet place. But then these were not normal times.


So it was no surprise that as Ned was striding forth a dark clothed figure burst forth from the foliage, ran directly towards Ned, and then projectile vomited onto his face. SCORE. 1 Goal.


Things went downhill from there. Zed headed for the hills, but he was not fast enough, for a small woman jumped the hedge, landed on his shoulders, and projectile vomited directly onto his eye lids. He screamed in horror. This was fucked up.  I mean for real.  Why was this happening?


But it was important work. Government work. All a part of the plan. The plan to draw us all closer together. To gather and breath each other’s breath in and out, to savor the glisten of other’s sweat, the ritual working, maybe even leapfrogging our consciousness forwards towards something, something more.  Something amazing. 

We needed to get to that StarGate.

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